This was written in response to the prompts "genuine" (provided by Artemis Rae)
and "glisten" (provided by S.J. Smith) for the Just One Word meme on LiveJournal.
Sometimes the Elric brothers know a lead's worthless, like an advertisement for Genuine Philosopher's Stone Chips peddled out of a medicine wagon, offering Relief For The Thousand Natural Shocks That Flesh Is Heir To (headache, earache, indigestion, constipation, arthritis, colic, and, er, female complaints) by Stimulating The Body's Natural Alchemy. The brothers visit the quacksalver's customers for form's sake, she herself having skipped town at the first whisper of official interest in her stock. A few disappointed souls give up their red glass shards willingly, but most insist on keeping them. "Let it go, Ed," Al pleads after one arthritic old lady is sufficiently stimulated, either by the placebo effect or the Fullmetal Alchemist's personality, to chase them off her porch with a broom. "If it makes her feel better -- "
"But it's a fake! They're all fakes!" Ed's voice soars with frustration, then drops, level and over-controlled. "False hope's a trap, Al. People need real help."
"I know, I know," Al replies helplessly.
He watches his brother reduce the glistening handful of hopes they've collected to sand and waste heat. Neither asks what they'll do if the will-o'-the-wisp they're chasing dissolves as easily under the grim glare of truth.